Significance of Family
by LayD
Summary: As a last-ditch effort to get Harvey and Donna together Rachel and Mike ask them to do something that will carry more significance than any of them ever would have expected.
1. Prologue

***I own nothing, don't sue***

As a last-ditch effort to get Harvey and Donna together Rachel and Mike ask them to do something that will carry more significance than any of them ever would have expected.

 **Prologue**

 **December 2016**

"Oh, my goodness," Donna sighed as Rachel gingerly handed over her new bundle of joy. "Look at those little fingernails. Rach…she's so beautiful."

"Thanks," Rachel said meekly from her hospital bed, where she lay sweaty and weary. Mike just beamed, a smile never leaving his face.

Donna sat down and stared in wonder at the slumbering little miracle.

"She is beautiful, Rachel. Congratulations. Thank God she looks like you. Are you sure Mike is father?" Harvey said with his typical smirk, hands stuffed in his pockets as he stood a few feet away from Donna, glancing on at the baby.

"Very not funny, do you even know how babies are ma-?" Mike managed to get out just before Rachel cut him off.

"Thank you, Harvey," Rachel said, a big smile creeping across her face at hearing anything that personal out of his mouth. "Thank you both for coming here so quickly," she added. Only the four of them were in the room, Mike had asked them specifically to stay back. Rachel's parents had just left along with Louis and Jessica. Even Harold and Jimmy had stopped by with a huge teddy bear.

"Rach, you're my best friend," Donna said. "Why on earth would I be anywhere else right now?"

"It doesn't matter what we're doing or where we are. We're all family," Harvey said, backing Donna up.

Rachel started to tear up, rolling her lips in and crinkling the hem of her sheets in her hands.

"What's wrong?" Donna asked, worried, finally peeling her eyes away from the pink little newborn.

"I just miss you both. And I don't think the pregnancy hormones are gone yet," Rachel said, laughing at herself as she ran a delicate finger under each eye.

"You've only been on mat leave for like a week," Donna said, though still reaching out one hand to hold Rachel's while the other nestled the baby.

"Mike…" Harvey said tentatively, finally pulling a chair away from the wall to sit near Donna, leaning forward with his hands on his knees. "Is there a reason you wanted just me and Donna in here?" He was certain he knew. There was only one reason they would want him and Donna, in the same room as them and the baby after everyone else left.

"There is. Rachel and I were hoping you two would agree to be Charlotte's godparents." Mike said as Rachel's flashed an expectant smile at her friends.

Donna and Harvey locked eyes with one another briefly before either one of them looked at the young couple.

"I know it's an odd couple kind of thing, but my parents are getting older, Mike doesn't have anyone left…Jessica is Jessica…and well Louis is out of the question," Rachel added.

Harvey smirked at Donna, who didn't see him, but was instead busying herself with straightening the baby's blanket.

"So, will you?" Mike asked.

"Of course," Harvey and Donna said in unison.

Rachel reached out for a hand from Donna and a hand from Harvey. "Thank you both. It means so much that no matter, we'll all still be family."

"A big, happy, dysfunctional family!" Mike added as they all shared a quiet laugh as the baby slept in Donna's arms.

"I'm honored that you would ask," Donna said.

"As am I," Harvey said.

Harvey and Donna shared an awkward look with one another, unbeknownst to Rachel and Mike, who had both taken a moment to confirm that her daughter was safe and content.

"So, Charlotte, huh?" Donna said, glancing up at Rachel. "I love it."


	2. A Night To Remember

**February 2019**

"Thank you so much again for babysitting," Rachel said once Aidan; the newest member of their little family was put to bed. "We'll be back by ten, I promise."

"No problem, really. Louis is going mudding in the morning so I don't have to be up early, take your time," Donna said.

Rachel rolled her eyes, and then slowly observed her surroundings, obviously mentally checking items off a checklist.

"Rachel, go. Everything's fine. If I need anything I know where the drugstore is and I have your number. Have a nice date night with Mike." Donna grabbed Rachel's face and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

Rachel gave Donna a hug in return. "Thank you. We'll try. Hopefully we make our reservation."

"Well, you're not gonna be on time if you don't go. Scarm!" Donna waved Rachel toward the door.

"Bye!" Rachel yelled on her way out to meet an impatient Mike who was warming the car outside of their Westchester County home about an hour outside of the city. The pair decided they needed more room after Charlotte had started walking and they found out they were expecting again.

"Daddy?" Charlotte stood at the top of the stairs, her sweet face showing between two of the balusters.

"Mommy and Daddy went to go get some dinner," Donna said to the two-year-old, climbing the stairs to join her. "You need to be in bed, though, sweetie. C'mon." Donna held her arms out and Charlotte held hers out in return. Donna hoisted the girl into her arms and carried her back to her bedroom, which was papered in African safari cut outs and decked with stuffed animals to match.

"I want my Daddy," Charlotte blubbered as soon as Donna put her back down into her bed.

"Honey, he'll be back in just a few hours, but he won't come back until you go to sleep, okay? You can see him in the morning. Lie down for me, okay?" Charlotte threw herself down onto the mattress and hid her face in the sheets. "I'm sorry, honey," Donna said, covering her back up. "Goodnight." She stayed for a moment while the little girl continued to cry, but she didn't pick her up again. Maybe it was because her mother had said she'd raised her to be a self-soother. Donna left the door open a crack and decided to check on Aidan, who wasn't making a peep from his bassinet in Mike and Rachel's bedroom. Donna admired the shock of blond hair on the boy's forehead, and then grabbed the baby monitor on the way out.

While Charlotte was a daddy's girl at heart, she was a carbon copy of her mother in appearance, dark hair, dark eyes and sun kissed freckles that were just starting to show, but Aidan, was completely Mike's child, there was no denying it even though Harvey would still make jokes, blonde hair and sparking blue eyes.

Having had only eaten a quick dinner before coming over, Donna helped herself to some chocolate ice cream from the freezer. She flipped channels until she found a crappy Lifetime movie. _Just what the doctor ordered,_ she thought. By the time she'd found the movie, her bowl was clean, so she filled it up again.

Donna had tuned into the movie an hour late, so by the time another half hour passed, the main characters were finally sleeping together, had passed their obstacles in a neat little hour and a half. Despite the ice cream slowly filling her tummy, Donna watched on plagued by a feeling of emptiness, not the regret that came with overeating. She set the bowl aside and lay down on the couch, clutching a yellow throw pillow. This was starting to feel like Valentine's Day, almost week ago, when she'd been curled up on her own couch, stress-eating, feeling sorry for herself. That's what the last couple of years had been like, really, but that stupid greeting card holiday brought out the absolute worst in her penchant to throw herself pity parties.

She felt the tears coming forth when the baby monitor crackled right before it issued a scream. The thing was pretty unnecessary, as Donna could hear the baby loud and clear from downstairs in the hauntingly quiet house. She calmed herself and hurried upstairs.

Over herself and her issues for the time being, Donna toted the helpless, upset baby downstairs, shutting Charlotte's door on her way so as not to wake her. Just being picked up seemed to satiate Aidan a little, but her still whimpered with balled up fists as if he wasn't sure whether anyone was going to take care of him.

"It's okay, honey," Donna said softly, rocking one arm back and forth gently while she pulled a bottle from the fridge and held it under hot running water. "Just a minute. Just a minute."

Donna hoped the baby needed to eat and didn't need a diaper change, because feeding the precious little boy sounded much more pleasant than changing him. She got lucky; Aidan latched on to the bottle immediately. "You are _so_ cute," Donna marveled, taking her seat again on the couch, crossing her feet underneath her. "Want to stay up and watch crappy movies with me? You know, they call Lifetime: 'Television for Women,' but the women usually get the short end of the stick in these movies. Just one of the many words of wisdom I have for you. Here's another. Don't be one of the stupid boys. Don't even bother thinking they're cool. Don't string girls along. Don't flirt with them, or make them feel protected, don't make them feel pretty, and then when you're bored, just…up and leave. So like I said, boys can be stupid don't be one. Oh, and it's totally okay to buy Chunky Monkey ice cream and only eat the chocolate part. I do that sometimes. Everybody knows the chocolate part is the only important part. It's all about who gets to the carton first. Whenever you have the option, actually, don't even bother with ice cream. Just buy chocolate."

Aidan's eyes peeled open for a moment, peering up at Donna. "Yeah. I know. Auntie Donna's a little crazy. But behind every crazy woman there's a boy at fault." Donna dropped a kiss on the baby's forehead and used her free hand to reach for a nearby baby blanket with which to cover him up. "I can't believe how little you are. I would very much like one of you for myself, but like I said boys are stupid" Aidan pushed the bottle nipple from his mouth, letting some milk dribble down his chin. Donna stopped her little rant and rested the baby against her chest. It wasn't long before she got a good burp out of Aidan. "My sentiments exactly."

—

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Donna said gently as the baby continued to cry, exposed to the world while Donna tried to figure out which side of the diaper was the back and which was the front. "I'm _sorry_ , honey. It's been a long time since I've done this. Actually, I don't even remember the last diaper I changed. There you go." Diaper situated, she patted Aidan's belly before refastening his onesie and pulling his pants back up. "All better. Mommy and Daddy should be home soon, I think. Actually," she said, upon glancing at the wall clock, "they're running a bit behind."

No matter what Donna tried, the baby still fussed a little when the doorbell rang twenty minutes later. Donna wondered whether it was safe to bring the baby to the door with her in the middle of the night when she wasn't expecting a visitor. But maybe Rachel and Mike had forgotten their house keys. There was a window to the side of their front door, though, and the figure Donna could see through it looked an awful lot like a police officer.

Hoping that some vandals were simply on the loose and the cops were canvassing the neighborhood for witnesses, Donna decided she should at least open the door and tell them she couldn't be of any help.

She flipped the porch light on, unlocked the deadbolt, and opened the door.

"Good evening," the young officer said through the storm door. An older partner stood next to him.

"Good evening," Donna replied warily, trying to shush the baby and bounce her while talking to the officer. "Can I help you?"

"I'm Officer Clark, ma'am. This is Officer Stevens. May we come in?"

"Of…of course." Donna had rarely ever been this nervous.

"Are you a friend or relative of Michael and Rachel Ross?" Officer Clark asked once he and his partner were inside and the door was shut, blocking out the bitter wind.

Donna's eyes widened. "I'm—I'm a friend of theirs, yes. What's going on? Are they all right?" Officer Clark made that dreaded motion to take off his cap.

"I'm very sorry, ma'am, but they were both killed in a car accident about forty minutes ago."

Luckily, Donna clutched the once again crying baby more tightly instead of dropping him.

"They both passed instantly. They didn't experience any pain. Their…bodies—" The officer paused, unsure he'd used the right words. He sounded new at this. "—They're at the morgue at New York Presbyterian. They were identifiable from their driver's licenses, so no one needs to go in to identify them. Is there anything we can do for you?"

Donna wanted to cover her gaping mouth with her hand, but she didn't trust one arm to be strong enough to hold up a baby, even as feather light as she was.

"Ma'am?"

"No," Donna choked. "No, thank you. I just—oh, God," she wailed finally. Officer Stevens quickly took the baby from Donna's trembling arms while Officer Clark rested a consoling hand on Donna's shoulder. "Ma'am, one of us can stay with you and the children until another friend or family member arrives. Or are you the only one in the area?"

Tears blurred Donna's vision so that the officers were just black blobs, and whatever the officer was saying to her was muffled beyond comprehension.

"Ma'am?" he said again. The baby shrieking in the background in reaction to being held by a stranger with very cold arms snapped Donna's sensations back into working order. "Would you like one of us to stay with you and the children? Records showed they also have a little girl. Is she here with you?"

"Yes, she's asleep." Donna, paused to catch her breath. "And n—no, I don't need you to stay but could you put him in his car seat over there for me? I don't think I can." Donna flapped her hands about, as if trying to wake them up. "Thank you," she said when Officer Stevens moved Aiden's car seat from the table to the floor and reluctantly placed the screaming infant into it.

"If you need anything else, ma'am, please give the police station a call."

Donna couldn't bring herself to say anymore; she merely nodded, both her hands covering everything but her drenched eyes. She sat at a kitchen chair right before the news sank in further, before her knees liquefied underneath her. The front door was closed in a moment, and once that moment passed she inhaled in one long, deep, shuddering motion. The baby wailed away angrily in the background, but Donna could hardly process what to do with herself let alone her godson at the moment.

"Phone, phone, phone," she muttered shakily under her breath. It was in her pocket. There was no doubt in her quickly drowning mind as to whom she would call first.

"Donna?"

"I need you—"

"What's the matter? What's going on…why are you crying?" a concerned voice questions on the other end. She envisioned him putting down whatever it was he was doing, as it didn't sound like she'd woken him up. He sounded like she'd interrupted something.

"I need you—to come to—come to Rachel and Mike's house." She knew she was stuffy and wondered whether Harvey understood a word she uttered.

"What's going on?"

"Please just come," she squeaked, not wanting to take in a gasping breath over the phone but unable to control herself. She thought she might begin to hyperventilate if she didn't slow down and breathe properly.

"I'll be there as soon as I can, okay?"

Trying to regulate her breathing, Donna didn't answer right away.

"Donna?"

"Just get here as fast as you can, please."

"I'm already out the door, see you soon."

The line disconnects from her end.

He has no idea what's happening or what's to come. He only knows that he hates knowing she's crying.


	3. The Children

**February 2019  
**

It took all Harvey had in him not to assume the very worst as he raced across town to Mike and Rachel's home in the suburbs. A mile before their house, he saw a tow truck, two cars smashed to smithereens and a couple of police cruisers. Can't be, he forced himself to think.

Waiting was something to which Donna had never been a stranger. Waiting for her father to have enough money to send her to summer acting camp that he had promised her for year. Waiting for the right man to come into her life. Then realizing she had been waiting on Harvey for years. And now she found herself waiting for Harvey yet again, but in a much different sense. She couldn't be by herself right now. What to do with the screaming baby, she didn't quite know. Higher functioning was shot to hell at the moment. She'd at some point found her way to the floor, next to the car seat—that was the least she could do, sit down by the poor child—and was curled in an upright ball, her drenched face pressed between her knees.

 **December 2016**

"If anything ever happens to me and Mike—"

"Rachel, don't even talk like that. Nothing's going to happen to you guys. My job as godmother is just to spoil the living daylights out of her. Right, honey?" Donna said to one-week-old Charlotte, who was cradled in her arms.

 **February 2019  
**

"I'm sorry," Donna cried to the baby, but into her knees. "I don't know what you need." Donna dragged her fingers roughly through her hair, all the way down to the ends, at which point she pulled hard. The full-on, never ending sobbing she knew was inevitable hadn't come yet. She didn't know what it was waiting for. Aidan's shrieking hurt her head physically almost as much as the knowledge that her best friend was dead drained her emotionally. Maybe that was why Donna didn't find herself completely helpless yet. She had a job to do.

So she finally picked up Aidan, laid him against her chest. "I'm no better off than you are right now," she mumbled. "Thank you, God," she said with the utmost sincerity when the baby quieted. "If you're still looking down on me, please get Harvey here soon. I need him."

Harvey didn't knock, letting himself in through the door the officers had left unlocked a minute after Donna's little flare prayer. "Donna?"

"Harvey," Donna breathed. Before she could formulate an explanation as to why she was curled up on the floor, her eyes streaming anguished tears while she held the baby close, Harvey had thrown his expensive wool jacket over a chair and was on one knee next to her in a matter of seconds.

"What's the matter?"

Donna's breathing was frighteningly shaky as she placed Aidan back in his car seat, hoping that all he needed was to be held by someone warm and comfortable. She was right; the baby issued no more tears or cries. Once her hands were free, Donna meant to tell Harvey what had happened, but all she could do was bury her face in her knees again. The ability to formulate words, let alone sentences, completely eluded her at the moment.

Without making a noise, Harvey sat down next to Donna and ran a hand slowly up her back. Upon reaching her hair, he smoothed his hand over it. "Donna, you need to talk to me. What happened?" He wasn't certain whether it was the sight of Donna in such distress, or whether it was because only one thing could have her this distraught, but he found his own eyes watering now. "Is it about Mike and Rachel?"

This elicited the tiniest nod from Donna.

"Are they all right?" he asked, hoping that he would get a nod here, too. But Donna shook her head.

No more words were necessary. "Oh, God. Come here." He pulled the crumpled mess that was once (and maybe still) his best friend up against him. "How did it happen?"

"Car accident," Donna said, her voice quavering unsurprisingly as she gladly wrapped her arms around Harvey's neck and held on as though her life depended on it. It was one of those moments where the attention of another while grieving simply made things worse. Or maybe it was better. Yes, better. Donna needed to cry. Not just sit there with her face hidden while the tears slimed her hands, but sob like a helpless little child. Or like a woman whose life had just been turned upside down and inside out with the removal of a police officer's cap.

Donna's heaving, shameless sobs into Harvey's neck just made it harder for him to hold it together. Mike was gone. Rachel was gone. Though he hadn't known Rachel very well, they recently became close friends. She was someone he could depend on, he knew that she was a strong woman and that had made Mike a happy a family man. Mike, another one of his best friends and bother of sorts. Vanished. Leaving a broken family and broken friends behind.

Harvey didn't shush Donna, didn't tell her everything was okay. She needed someone sincere and unafraid to be. He hadn't seen Donna much this week since his case went to court. Sure things were differnt and they may have drifted apart a little but he hadn't lost his ability to read her. She needed someone to mourn with her, not watch her pitiful figure do so at a distance and try to stop her. He found himself kissing her hair, leaving his lips there while he stroked her back with both hands.

Crying was always fatiguing. That was why Donna tried to limit her time spent doing it. She reserved it for crappy holidays meant to make women feel lonely and worthless, or for goodbyes to dear friends, whether their departure was willing or not, whether it was expected or not. The notion of just sitting there and crying until the end of time crossed her head, and she sent up a fleeting prayer that that could become a real possibility, that God would let her mourn endlessly instead of encouraging her to crawl her way out of the rubble and move on.

Someone really was listening. Her head ached, she could hardly hear, couldn't control her air intake worth a damn, but her body didn't shut down like it normally did after so much crying. She got to keep at it. And she had someone with her to let her know with his silence that her behavior was completely acceptable, not foolish or selfish in the least. He didn't try to quell her tears with questions, didn't try to drag her out of her little world where all that mattered was that she would never talk to her dear friends again.

The baby was asleep. Thank God, Harvey thought. Donna had found herself completely tangled up with him, nowhere near asleep herself, still weeping, and Harvey wouldn't know what to do had the baby needed attention. He couldn't imagine anyone needing it more than Donna right now.

"I'm sorry, Harvey." Those were the first words Donna had spoken in two hours. The two hours that left Harvey's behind and legs without feeling. Her voice sounded into his chest.

"What on earth do you have to be sorry for?" he asked, his chin atop her head.

"This. I should be able to handle myself. I'm a grown woman." She didn't look up at him, didn't want him to see the mess she'd become.

"You lost your best friend, Donna. Please, grieve in whatever way you need to. I'm right here. Grieving with you." He felt a minuscule nod against his chest.

"What time is it?" Donna asked.

Harvey removed one of his arms from around Donna's back and checked his watch. "Two."

"I've been sitting here blubbering for two hours?" she burst out, immediately making a motion to climb out from between Harvey's legs. But she found herself caged in.

"If you have something better to do than mourn, you let me know what it is," Harvey said, not knowing where any of this was coming from. Maybe it was because he'd never seen Donna nearly this broken before. Her pitiful, red, soaking face stared up questioningly, yet gratefully, at his, which she was selfishly relieved to find wasn't completely composed either. Tears from awhile ago stained his cheeks, though he was no longer crying now, just flushed.

The heaving sobs finally let Donna be, at least for the time being. Left her enough time to talk, finally. There were things that needed addressing.

"Did you call anyone else?" Harvey asked, sensing that Donna was prepared to talk, could handle it.

"Not yet. I didn't think it would be a good idea to have people piling in the house with the kids here. God, Harvey, what do I say to Charlotte?"

"Let's sit on that one for a minute. Did Child Protective Services come?"

"No. The cops didn't say anything about what would happen to the kids, come to think of it."

"That might not be their job. Then CPS will probably come in the morning. I'm sure the cops didn't see it necessary since you didn't exactly look like you were going to run off with the kids. I don't know."

"I almost wish they would have taken them…Does that make me a horrible person?" Donna asked with heart wrenching candidness.

"No. It makes you a normal person. And they're called Child Protective Services for a reason. They know how best to deal with these situations."

"I love the kids, I do, I just don't know what to—"

"I know you do, Donna. And so do I. And I don't know any better than you do how to handle this. Most likely they'll go to family. If we can make it until then in one piece, then things will get better. The kids will be okay."

"Age is such a curse."

"What do you mean?"

"I wish I were a toddler, Donna said. "Then I would be too young to remember."

"Oh," Harvey said softly. "I can't blame you there."

"It's selfish of me to be worrying about how I'm going to handle this when Charlotte and Aidan are going to grow up without their parents," Donna said in self-loathing.

Harvey gently rocked Donna to and fro, the first major movement he'd made in a long while besides checking his watch. Oh, how he ached inside and out. "It's not selfish. Don't be so hard on yourself. You comprehend the loss far more than Charlotte will when she finds out. And Aidan won't know until he finds out that everyone else has mommies and daddies." Harvey felt like he was talking to a young child all of a sudden. Then again, what more was Donna right now than a helpless, semi-irrational child who needed comforting words? "And by that time, he'll have parents of some kind, whoever they are. Parents that love him and Charlotte. It's our responsibility to make sure that happens, remember? We'll make sure they're taken care of."

Donna nodded again, stretching her lungs with as much air as she could take in. "You know what terrifies me right now?"

"What?" Harvey didn't want to encourage this, but it wasn't about what he was comfortable with, what he could handle. Donna needed this.

"If and when I ever sleep again, I'm going to wake up, and for a few seconds it'll just be another day, but then I'm going to remember. Have you ever had that happen to you?"

"Unfortunately, I know exactly what you're talking about," Harvey said.

"You know, I've never really lost anyone close to me before..well, besides Norma. I'm in my forty's and the only funerals I've been to have been for distant relatives and your Dad's," she said meekly, he could barley hear.

"You don't need to know," Donna said. "There's no guide book out there anywhere. You just deal with it however you can," he said, speaking from unfortunate first-hand experience.

"I want to do the funeral arrangements," Donna said after some silence. "I just don't know what I'm doing, really. I know that we haven't really been as good of friends as we used to be, so I have no right to ask you this, but I'm going to ask anyway -"

"I'll help." Harvey didn't have an excuse for why he and Donna had been distant.

"Thank you. I think we should start making calls. Or do you think it's too late?" Donna asked.

"No, people need to know. But are you going to be okay, though? I mean, enough to get up?"

Donna nodded and swiped carelessly at her messy face. "Yeah," she whispered, moving to get up. Upon standing, she knew she'd done so too quickly, felt an overwhelming dizziness. She grabbed onto an arm that Harvey immediately held out for her. "Thanks."

Harvey tried to think of an easy job for Donna to do. He dug through the kitchen drawers once he sat Donna safely at the dining room table. He found an address book.

"Can you find her parents in there?" Harvey asked, setting the book down in front of Donna, trying to give her something to do. He already had Robert Zane's number in his cell phone.

"I'll call them," Donna said, really hoping Harvey would insist to do it anyway.

"I don't doubt that you can, but you don't have to. Do you want to go try and get some rest?" Harvey asked.

Donna shook her head. "I feel like I could pass out any second, but at the same time, I know the second I lie down I won't be able to sleep a wink. I'll call Jessica; maybe she can let the rest of the team know."

"I can call her after I call Rachel's parents," Harvey offered. "You don't need to do any of this."

Donna nodded. "I do." She rose carefully from her seat, still disoriented, her head swimming, and walked over to Harvey. She gave him a gentle but lingering hug. He embraced her as well, with a little more commitment. "Thank you," Donna said.

"No 'thank you's. Let's just get this over with."

"It's never going to be over," Donna murmured. "We're going to need to call the police and find out what the hell the deal is with CPS, too."

"I can do that."

Donna stared in wonderment at Harvey. The broody man she once thought she knew so well baffled her. She was one of the few privy to the fact that, indeed, Harvey was capable of showing compassion. But this much? "These next few days are going to be the most difficult of my life," she said insightfully. "But they could be worse. Thank you."

"I said, no th—"

Donna glared at Harvey through puffy eyes. "Thank you, Harvey."

No matter the circumstance, this woman, as broken as she is right now, as broken as they both are, she would always have the last word. Harvey thinks to himself _as more things change, the more they stay the same._


	4. Making Contact

**February 2019  
**

Donna sat on the couch now, rolling her phone pensively between her hands, while she listened to Harvey on his own phone in the other room.

"Robert?" he said. "Yes, it's Specter, I'm so sorry to be calling so late. No, nothing case related. I'm calling because, um…" Harvey took in a deep breath and held it, glancing over at Donna and catching her eye. He turned away from her, finding himself unable to look at her right now. He was trying to hold it together himself, and the sight of Donna, soggy-faced and motionless, was too pitiful to bear.

"I'm very sorry to have to tell you this, especially over the phone, but…Rachel and Mike were involved in a serious car accident tonight, they didn't make it" Harvey said quietly. Donna watched from the couch as Harvey nodded and ran a hand through his hair. "Yes…I'm very sorry…no, no, the kids weren't with them. Donna was babysitting…they're here with us...no, we haven't told anyone else yet. We wanted to call you first."

Donna leaned back into the couch, trying to bury herself in the cushions. She set her phone down on the coffee table, knowing what she needed to do but unable to get herself to work the speed dial. Telling another soul what had happened seemed impossible. How could she even put it into words? Mike and Rachel are dead. Rachel and Mike were killed. Mike and Rachel are deceased. Rachel and Mike passed away. Then there was the reason they were summonsing everyone anyway. Did everyone need to come in the middle of the night? What if they woke the children? The last thing a two-year-old needed when she missed her father was a bunch of practical strangers in her house. But Donna knew that if she were in anyone of her friends' shoes, she would have wanted to know as soon as it had happened. She and Harvey had already sat around avoiding the task for two hours.

"I'm very sorry…Donna and I will be here. We'll start looking after things until you get back, unless you have any objections…No, absolutely not, we don't mind at all," Harvey embellished. "We're willing to help however we can…Yes, you can call me back at this number or the house line…You'll be on the first flight out tomorrow? All right…goodnight."

To Donna, Harvey had never looked more pale or weary when he set his phone on the counter and leaned over it. Not a single one of his cases had drained him more than that phone call. He was a lawyer, he talked for a living and most of the time, minus a few that involved her and his feelings, he can spin words like silk. She wondered why this was so hard for him. But she didn't wonder for a second why it was so hard for her.

"I thought you were calling Jessica or Louis," Harvey said stonily to the granite countertop.

Donna stood sharply, picked up her phone and stalked into the small office near the back of the house.

"Donna, Donna please, I didn't mean it like that," Harvey called after her. He really hadn't meant to nag. As far as he was concerned, his offer to make all the calls, do all the work, do anything she felt like she couldn't do, still stood. "Donna…" He walked through the kitchen, across the living room, and into the office. Donna already had the phone against her ear and was seated in the rolling desk chair. "I can do it," Harvey said, holding out his hand for the phone. Donna just shook her head and gazed at the carpeting.

"I'm fine," she said just above a whisper.

"I didn't mean to nag," Harvey said. "I think it came across that way but I wasn't trying to."

"Harvey, it's fine—hi, Jessica… I know it's really late. I'm sorry…um…" The floodgates opened wide and Donna's lips disappeared into her mouth as she tried to slow the tears. She jumped suddenly, not expecting a hand to wrap around hers. She looked to see Harvey crouched down next to the chair. His expression was heartrendingly apologetic. She hadn't meant to be short with him. She hoped he hadn't taken it personally.

He had come at a moment's notice and she was taking him for granted. She had stalked out of the room like a bratty child, and here he was, holding her hand through this anyway. "We need you to come to Mike and Rachel's house." That was all Donna could get out before she was rendered incapable of speech yet again. She couldn't even manage a "Please come as soon as you can." She looked at Harvey imploringly through her fountain of tears and gave up the phone willingly when he reached for it.

"Jessica, sorry, Donna's not doing so well…Can you come? I think we'd better talk about it here, not over the phone. Do you think you can call Louis? Okay, we'll see you soon."

"I'll call Louis myself," Donna said through tiny gasps, holding out her free hand to get her phone back.

Harvey shook his head and squeezed Donna's other hand, caressing the back of it with his thumb. "It's okay. Give yourself a break."

Donna shook her head furiously, taking a moment to breathe deeply. "All I've done," Donna fumed through a stuffy nose, "is sit around while you take care of everything."

"So what?" Harvey retorted. "Do what you can. It isn't this, and that's fine. You called and asked for my help, did you not?"

Donna looked wounded, but she slowly nodded, running her wrist under her nose.

"Then let me help," Harvey said more gently. Harvey tugged Donna up from the chair and pulled her into a hug that just made her fall apart all over again.

"I can't believe they're gone," Donna sighed before the sobs racked her body again. Harvey's wide hands traveled the length of her back a few while she cried into his shoulder. As if on cue, the baby cried from the living room.

"I need to finish making some calls," Harvey said after giving Donna a moment to gather herself. "Can you handle the baby?"

Donna nodded. "Yeah." She sniffed loudly and swiped at her face. "He's probably hungry."

They left the office together. Picking up the baby was a small comfort to Donna, and both their tears abated. Harvey slouched over on the couch to call Harold and Jimmy, he had found their numbers posted on the fridge, while Donna prepped a bottle in the kitchen. She took a seat next to Harvey on the couch to feed the baby but tuned him out completely. It wasn't until he reached a hand to squeeze the baby's fingers that Donna remembered Harvey was beside her.

"Assuming Jessica could get a hold of Louis, they should be on their way," Harvey said.

Donna nodded.

"I'm going to get a hold of the police regarding the kids before people start rolling in, okay?"

The kids. Donna stared down at Aidan, who ate like it was his last meal on Earth. "What do you think they're gonna do?" Donna asked.

"Take them, I imagine," Harvey said, trying not to sound cold about it. "Until they figure out guardianship. Unless Mike and Rachel made some other request, then I'm assuming they'll go to Rachel's parents, assuming they're willing to take them."

"How could you not take in your own family?" Donna wondered aloud.

"I don't know, sure they have money but do they really have time or energy to raise two young kids?" Harvey questioned out loud as he scratched at his five o'clock shadow as he looked up the number to the local police department.  
"Daddy?" Charlotte moaned from the top of the stairs, hanging onto the banister.

"Oh God," Donna muttered under her breath, just loud enough for Harvey to hear. "What do I tell her?"

"Nothing yet," Harvey said decisively. "Hopefully I'll be in touch with some people who know a lot more about this than we do."

"Come on downstairs, honey," Donna called, not wanting to go upstairs with the baby only to travel back downstairs with a toddler underfoot.

Charlotte fussed the whole way down the stairs, which she took at a backwards crawl. Donna wished she could help her. "I want Daddy," he repeated, toddling over to Donna. "Where's Daddy?"

"They're...not home yet," Donna improvised, casting Harvey a sidelong glance. He nodded and pressed his phone to his ear. "Want to come sit up here with us?" She patted the narrow space between her and Harvey, who scooted over to make room for her to climb up. The girl nestled into Donna's side, leaning far away from Harvey, whom she obviously didn't recognize yet. "You don't remember your uncle Harvey?" Donna asked sweetly. Charlotte shook her head. "He was—he's your mommy and daddy's friend. Like me." This only made Charlotte cling tighter to Donna. "It's okay, sweetie. He's a very nice guy. Hey Harvey," Donna mumbled. "You might want to, uh, make this call elsewhere."

Harvey jumped from the couch, feeling completely stupid for his oversight. He moved into the office and shut the door behind him.

"Once I burp your brother, I'll tuck you back in, okay?" Donna said. Charlotte didn't respond. A few minutes later she made her way carefully back upstairs, making sure Charlotte was in front of her the whole way. As she entered Rachel and Mike's bedroom, which sent chills up and down her spine, she sensed another set of adult footsteps behind her. She glanced back at Harvey with trepidation; almost glad they couldn't discuss the outcome of his phone call right now. Charlotte lingered at the door, gazing up at Harvey.

"Baby's all right?" Harvey asked.

"Yeah, he's out again," Donna said, placing Aidan gingerly back into his bassinet. "Let's get you back to bed, Char," Donna sighed, crouching down and holding her arms out. Charlotte shook her head and latched unexpectedly onto Harvey's leg. "Little Miss indecisive," Donna huffed.

"Can I pick you up, Charlotte?" Harvey asked as he knelt down. The little girl didn't answer, but didn't put up any sort of fight when Harvey carried her from the room. Donna straightened Charlotte's tangled covers over her once Harvey laid her down.

"I want Daddy," Charlotte said yet again.

Donna couldn't find it in her heart to lie outright to her, even if she was only two. "Go to sleep, sweetie. You're tired."

Charlotte didn't have any fight left in her and was sleeping before Donna even got a mind to glance up at Harvey. "That was easier than I expected," Donna said as she shut the door behind them.

"You're good with them," Harvey said on the way downstairs.

"It's the middle of the night. She's too tired to fight. And the baby's easy. He just needs feeding and changing."

"Not all babies are that easy," Harvey argued, becoming gradually aware of how relaxing it was to have a back-and-forth conversation with Donna with no tears being shed between them. "I was convinced Marcus hated me for the entire first year of his life."

Donna filled the teakettle on the stove and lit the burner. Chamomile tea sounded like just what the doctor ordered, so she rifled through the cabinets for some. She took out a bag for each of them once she found it.

"I'm not joking," Harvey said, leaning against the fridge with his arms crossed. "Give yourself some credit. You want to have kids someday anyway, right?"

Donna leaned into a corner where two lengths of countertop met and shook her head at Harvey. "It doesn't feel right talking about my plans for the future right now," Donna figured it was time to address the elephant in the room. "What did the police say?"

"They weren't supposed to leave you with the kids. They called CPS on their way back but they were supposed to wait here until CPS arrived. I guess they thought they were cutting you a break somehow." Harvey shrugged.

"Right, by leaving the emotionally unstable woman with a screaming baby and a two-year-old upstairs. So is CPS coming?"

"Yes. They didn't give me an ETA, but I imagine soon."

Donna nodded aloofly, staring at the floor. "I'm sorry about earlier," she said, pointing off in the direction of the office. "I shouldn't have been short with you."

"I shouldn't have nagged," Harvey said dismissively.

"No, you should have, because you've been sitting here doing all the work. You basically made all the calls while I sat there like a deer in headlights," Donna said, meeting Harvey's stare.

"Listen. They are my friends as much as they are yours. You have a right to be distraught. Frankly, I'd be worried if you'd been able to function well enough to be calling everyone. I'm impressed that you tried."

"I just wish I could've done more," Donna went on.

"You tried. And you took care of the kids under all that pressure. I sure as hell couldn't have done that."

While Donna ignored Harvey's attempt to compliment her, her short-lived conversation with Rachel came to the forefront of her mind again. "You know, Rachel tried to say something to me a while ago."

Harvey was surprised Donna could even utter Rachel's name without getting worked up again. "What about?"

"About the kids," Donna said with a sigh, looking meaningfully at Harvey. "She said, 'If anything ever happens to me and Mike' and I cut her off, called her silly. And I never really thought about it again until tonight, because it sounded so silly for her to be talking about that kind of thing. But I wonder if she was…" Donna didn't want to complete the thought. If it was true, that meant her life was about to change even more. If it weren't true, she was afraid she'd feel robbed of the children if they did go to family.

"Planning on leaving the kids with one or both of us?" Harvey finished. Donna nodded. "It's possible, but it's also possible she was going to ask you to make sure the kids played soccer or went to church. There's no way to know what she wanted regarding the children until we talk to her lawyer. Find out what they said about the kids in their will."

"Yeah, I suppose." Donna turned at the sound of the teakettle whistling. She dropped the topic. Harvey was right. There was no sense in wondering. They would know soon enough. For now, as Donna fixed her and Harvey each a big mug of tea, Donna felt the urge to go upstairs and hold onto the children until they were wrangled away from her. The responsibility of taking care of them ever since the cops had left had been a million times more daunting than babysitting a brood of twenty children. But suddenly the idea of them being taken away by strangers was bringing out a possessive side of her. She handed Harvey his tea.

"Thanks. Do you…want me to do the talking?"

Donna bit her thumbnail. "I feel okay now, but I also feel like that could change any second."

"We'll work as a team, then. Like we always did," Harvey said matter-of-factly. "Come here." He held his arms open and Donna walked without question into them. "I know I didn't really make an effort when you left me...and for that I apologize, but I'm going to be with you every step of the way now. No matter where the kids end up, no matter what."

Donna shocked herself by letting out a sputtering laugh into Harvey's shoulder. "You know, I'm trying to hold it together here. You're gonna make me lose it." And she almost did. She had no idea where the nurturing attitude was coming from. It was like him to provide space to grieving friends, like he had for Louis when he found out Norma had died, or to physically protect them, but he wasn't the nurturing type. She wondered if he felt guilty over something.

"Well, I guess I'll cut it out," Harvey said, rubbing Donna's back once before letting her go. "I think I just heard someone pull up."

Donna sighed, and then took a sip of her tea. Thankfully, Harvey knew better than to ask if she was ready.


End file.
